Meanwhile, we had our last holiday to enjoy as a couple before we became a young family again and domestically, all hell broke loose! Chapter Thirty-T...o“Bouchon!”Two weeks later, the sign over the motorway sneered at us as we stared miserably at the exhaust pipes of the ocean of cars in front of us. Yes, it was bright; yes, it was sunny; yes, it was the South of France but for a woman whose bladder was getting smaller by the day, being stuck in a French traffic jam was hell on earth.We had both. She knew, of course, that the only safe passage was via the North or South poles, but she chaffed at having to ride in a cargo carrier like a 'grounder' to get there.Her thoughts reminded her that she would be expected to show up in the cargo bay for transport to the surface, soon. She looked around for the great ship. She didn't realize she'd drifted so far from it. It was so tiny that she missed the little black dot against the landscape behind it, and had to search for it mentally. Once she. I'm here to photograph you. What you want to reveal to the camera is up to you." But my contract is void if I don't do a nude layout," she replied ruefully. "I'm caught and we both know it," she said, sighing resignedly. "Where do you want me?" Let's start on the couch there and see how things progress."The couch was black leather which contrasted nicely with the sparkling silver outfit. Denise sat on the edge, turned slightly and smiled professionally."Looking good," he commented as he picked. Smiling at me. My long red hair felt lightly on my shoulders, I’d flipped it anxiously as he’d flirted with me. I was pretty and used to men watching me. My slender frame and size B breasts meant I rarely wore a bra. I often was flirted with. My sharp green eyes had attracted some attention. I was now twenty seven and married to William, the tall, flat white ordering man I’d met.He’d come in and watch me for a while before ordering. It’d taken a year before he’d asked me for my phone number..
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